No Rest for the Wicked
by SailorCecelia
Summary: Catia Lione, an assassin who couldn't deal with the turn of events in the Dark Brotherhood, turns to the Thieves Guild to find a new path. It's all going well until she meets the Guild Master...and past affairs come back to haunt her.  Rated M!
1. Black and Blue

**This chapter's title is from the song Black and Blue by Miike Snow. Also, this story gets smutty like…pretty instantly…(I couldn't help myself :P)…anyway, the whole story is rated M, for good reason, so if you're not into that sort of thing, then you can't say you weren't warned.**

**Black and Blue**

_How long has it been, shall we get into it again?_

Catia stood in front of Mercer Frey, who was apparently the Guild Master. Who knew? Nobody thought to inform her…well, she supposed she could have asked, but…heat of the moment and all that.

The look on Mercer's face was…indifferent. Catia blanked her face too, letting no emotion show.

"So, you're the one that Brynjolf has been going on about?" He asked, his voice gruff. "Here's how it works around here." He proceeded to prattle on about gold and playing by the rules. She tuned him out.

Rather, she was thinking about the last time she ran into Mercer. The only other time she ever met him. It was in Solitude, she had that job on Vittoria Vici and had spent most of the day scouting out the best possible locations to carry out the assassination. It was a rather tiring endeavor, to be honest.

She slipped into Proudspire Manor, after she had finished her rounds of the city. She had given Jordis a few days off, couldn't have the little pup following her around while she was on business for the Brotherhood. The house was almost completely dark as she crept upstairs to her bedroom. Her tenure at the Sanctuary had taught her to move quietly at all times.

Once in the dimly lit room she began to slide out of her armor, peeling the snug leather from her body until she was down to her under garments. She breathed a sigh of relief as she moved to climb into the bed.

Her calm immediately disappeared as she caught the slightest movement from the corner of her eye.

In a matter of seconds she had a blade in hand and pointed at the general region of the intruder's heart. She wasn't comforted by this though, as his sword was gently touching the tender skin on her neck, his easy movements making it known that he was no stranger to the shadows.

"Well, we seem to be at an impasse." The man said, his voice hoarse and dark.

Catia laughed a bit, "But see, you're in my house, uninvited, so I have the upper hand."

"So it would seem, of course, I could have your throat slit and be out of here before you even have a chance to call the guards." He countered

"Who says that a) you would be quick enough and b) that I even need the guards." Catia shrugged slightly, her blade scraping against his armor.

"I thought that I recognized Brotherhood armor." The man lowered his weapon, motioning towards her discarded armor. Catia mirrored his actions, slowly and less certainly.

"And you are?" She raised her eyebrow at him, "From the Thieves Guild, I presume?"

"Mercer Frey." He spat the name at her.

Catia stared at him for a moment, trying to think of Astrid ever mentioning any of the Guild by name. Delvin Mallory was the only name she knew, so she shrugged, "Oh, yes. Of course." She deftly hung her sword back on the rack, "I have a rather big day tomorrow, you see, so if you could please let me get to bed and also put my stuff back?" She frowned, looking longingly at her bed.

"Don't they teach manners in that forsaken group of murderers?" He asked, incensed.

"We don't really talk much." She shrugged. "Besides, you're the one who broke into my house." He continued to stare at her and once she realized that he wasn't going to take a hint and leave, she finally gave him an answer. "Fine. The name is Catia Lione. Are you enjoying the view, _thief_?" she asked, referring to her state of near undress.

Mercer slowly raked his gaze over her mostly bare skin, "Yes, quite."

Catia felt her ears burn and her stomach flip, not in an unpleasant way. The rogue look he was giving her was making her heart race, in a good way. He looked devious and dark and those were her two favorite qualities in men….and it had been a long time…

"Well, you _are_ in my house, stealing my stuff…I think I should get something in return…" She smiled sweetly, inside she was cringing at the way the honeyed words fell from her lips, it went against everything that she normally was.

Catia wasn't sure how she ended up there, but suddenly she found herself pressed up against the thief, her fingers deftly undoing the buckles on his armor as he kissed her fully on the mouth. His warm hands leaving tantalizingly hot trials over her cool skin.

Rationality started running rampant in her head. _This man is a stranger…yes, but he's in the Guild, that makes it okay? They're like our cousin faction..._ It had been a frighteningly long time since she had any sort of intimate human contact and rational thought seemed to be quickly leaving her mind. Mercer's hot breath on her neck made the decision for her.

She made a noise in the back of her throat as he nipped at the sensitive parts of her neck, the stubble on his chin tickling her skin lightly. Catia was only halfway through with undoing the buckles on his armor when he impatiently tossed her on the bed and quickly discarded the jerkin himself.

He pinned her to the bed and kissed her roughly as she ran her hands over the muscles in his abdomen. She enjoyed the feel of his toned muscles and he groaned quietly as her fingertips dipped softly under the waistband of his trousers. Catia quickly classified her decision as a great one as Mercer's nimble fingers danced softly over her skin, easily removing what was left of her undergarments.

He made a noise of appreciation as he cupped her breast before tracing the curve of her hips. She wiggled under his touch and quickly moved to undo the buckles of his pants. He discarded the pants and they slid to the floor with a dull thud. Catia hooked a leg around his hip and pulled herself up to meet him.

Mercer teased her for a bit before sliding into her with a forceful push. She moaned as his movements were deliberate and commanding. He bruised her lips with another rough kiss. His hand snaked down her body, lightly, enjoying her lithe movements, before slipping down and touching her more sensitive areas. She arched up at the touch and bit down hard on his lower lip.

The sharp pain elicited a guttural noise from the back of Mercer's throat. He drove into her harder. Catia tensed up at the increase in pace, her legs tightening around his narrow hips. He pinned her hands down above her head with one of his hands, his other free to roam over her breast and exposed skin.

He brushed the hair from her face and kissed her again. She made an indecipherable noise as she arched up into him, every muscle in her body tensing up just before rather fierce release that left her nearly trembling. Mercer pushed in a few more times before his own guttural and elegant release, she was sure-

"Lass?" She was wrenched from her memories by Brynjolf's melodic voice, she could feel heat building in her cheeks and mentally cursed herself for replaying that particular meeting, again. It was a memory she visited often.

"Mph." she replied, as if she had actually been paying attention. Mercer gave her a knowing smirk before returning to his desk.

Brynjolf began to tell her about the Goldenglow job. Don't burn the place down. Try not to kill anyone. Don't get caught. Don't make the client mad. This place sure did have a lot of rules.

"Tonila will set you up with some new armor, whenever you're ready." Brynjolf told her, clapping her on the shoulder.

She gave him a toothy smile, "Thanks, Brynjolf."

He showed her to the bed and chest that would be hers in the Cistern and she set about putting the few belongings she had brought with her away. She had felt happy about being accepted into the Guild, convinced that it would be easy to avoid Mercer. Of course, that was before she had found out that he was the _Guildmaster_.

She pulled off her boots and stretched out, languidly, on the bed. It had taken a lot of reflection for her to decide to come to the Guild. Her last trip to the Sanctuary had been disastrous and after an exploded torture room, she had fled the place, unable to return. She still felt a pang in her heart at the thought of Astrid's betrayal and the subsequent deaths of nearly all her surrogate family.

"Well, well, I have to admit, I'm a bit surprised to see you here." Mercer's gruff voice sounded from somewhere to her right.

Catia lazily rolled her head to the side to find him casually leaning against the wall, arms crossed across his chest. "You can thank me later." She told him, turning her head back and letting her eyes close.

Mercer made a noise of irritated amusement, "You should watch your mouth." He warned.

She raised an eyebrow, not opening her eye and smirked at him. "Sure thing, Boss."

Suddenly he was standing closer to her bed, staring down at her. "I'm curious as to why someone from the Brotherhood would want to join the Guild. Similar tactics, completely different line of work." He told her, his voice quite. "I only allowed you in because I never get caught, except for once, by you."

"I'm incredibly astute about these sort of things." She opened her eyes to level him with an intense stare.

Even though the lighting was dim in the Cistern, it was still better lit than her room had been that one night. She took stock of his features. An angular face with a surly brow and dark eyes, his hair, chin length and shaggy, and his mouth, derisive, and currently twisted into a wry smirk.

"Yes, well, if you manage to make it back from Goldenglow, alive, I may be inclined to agree with you.

"When, not if, I make it back from Goldenglow, in perfect health, you will owe me a drink." She informed him, closing her eyes again.

Mercer let out a bark of a laugh as he turned from her and made his way back to his desk.

**a/n Well, there's chapter one…what do you all think? Chapter 2 is already done, just need to edit it (and make sure someone wants to read it) before I post it **

**xCecelia**


	2. Hit Me Like A Man, Love Me Like a Woman

**This chapter is rated M for dirty…dirty-ness (ie: smut). Yes. And the chapter title is from The Pretty Reckless. Once again, don't say you weren't warned ;)**

**Chapter 2 Hit Me Like a Man, Love Me Like a Woman**

_It's a version of perversion that is only for the lucky people_

_Take your time and do with me what you will_

Catia skulked down the hall and slipped past the mercenary at the end of it. She rolled her eyes, this would be so much easier if she could just put an arrow through their necks and be on with it. But no, that was against the rules.

Mercer was going to owe her two drinks after this.

She couldn't pickpocket. It wasn't something they taught you in the Brotherhood. But lock picking was a common enough practice. Couldn't alert your target by busting down the door and all of that. So instead of getting the key from Aringoth, she went on down the basement.

The safe was easy enough to find. She desperately wanted to end the mercenary that was guarding the floor, her fingers twitched at the throwing knives peeking out from under her belt. He turned and walked the other direction; she nearly sighed as she moved from the shadows and set to work on the lock.

It was a rather difficult one, to say the least, judging by the score of broken picks lying on the floor beside her. Finally, though, she heard the satisfying slick as the lock gave way.

There wasn't much in the safe. A bill of sale that she was sure was what Mercer was looking for, and a fat coin purse, just what she was looking for. She pocketed them both before beginning the journey out of the house.

She sighed in relief as the night air hit her face. Creeping along the shadows clinging to the house, she made her way over to where the bee hives were. There was a lone guard standing along the path.

Festus Krex had once tried to teach her magic. She was tragic at it, they spent hours working and concentrating on the simplest spells, to no avail. The most Catia could achieve was warming her hands up when they were cold and shocking people when she poked them. Her favorite target for shocking was Arnbjorn, he would yelp and glare daggers at her as she giggled with amusement.

"Cicero finds it amusing." She told him.

"That dolt would find grass pods amusing." He would grumble. It was true. She felt a pang of homesickness as she thought of Cicero, she hadn't even visited him the last time she was at the Sanctuary.

The problem at hand was that she didn't have any flames to start any fires, plus that guard was in her way…

She crept up behind him, wrapping her hand around the torch as she slid her razor sharp dagger across his throat. He didn't make a sound as he slumped to the ground. She grinned wickedly.

Unfortunately, she had been so wrapped up in her thoughts and actions that she hadn't noticed the changing of the guards, which meant that the mercenary that was coming to replace the one she just killed had gone unnoticed.

They gaped at each other for a moment before the guard started shouting. "Intruder!" he thundered, pulling his great sword off his back.

Catia could nearly feel every eye on the island turn to look in their direction. Belatedly, she would admit, she stabbed the man in the shoulder, causing him to lose grip of his sword, which clattered loudly to the ground.

She turned on heel and sprinted to the hives. There were arrows whizzing past her head as she set fire to the first hive. Going down the line, she got the second and third one up quickly before tossing the torch into the water, it hissed as it went out.

She stood in a moment of panic as the mercenaries closed in on her, blocking her exits. She wasn't used to getting caught; she wasn't sure what to do in this situation. She bounced from foot to foot, trying to decide which way to go.

An arrow embedded itself into her hip, causing her to yelp and break out of her trance. Sharp pains shot through her body, but that was secondary at this point, she needed to escape.

Turning, she ran, awkwardly, to the burning hives, swarms of angry bees were buzzing around it. She leapt through the flames, arms over her face, and splashed, ungracefully, into the lake. She painfully made her way to the deep waters and silently propelled herself to the shore, slowly so that the mercenaries wouldn't be able to detect her movements in the darkened water.

Finally she arrived at the docks. She sputtered and coughed as she tried to pull herself onto the peer. A rough hand grabbed her arm and pulled her the rest of the way up.

"Wujeeta." Catia rasped, gazing at the Argonian woman looming over her. "I've never been so glad to see you."

The woman laughed, "The pleasure is mine, Catia."

Wujeeta had a skooma problem. Catia rarely visited the docks at Riften, as she didn't really visit the city much, before, but once she had supplied Wujeeta with a healing potion, which supposedly helped with the addiction. She occasionally checked up on the Argonian, whenever she had a spare moment, she enjoyed their conversations.

"You aren't looking so good." The lizard commented, glancing at the arrow sticking out of her hip at an odd angle.

"Oh, I'll be fine." Catia groaned, attempting and immediately failing at sitting up. "Just need to make it back into the Ratways."

Wujeeta pushed her back down, "Here now, let me ease the pain a bit."

The Argonian pulled out a small purple bottle and uncorked it. She poured a bit of powder into the palm of her hand, it glimmered in the moonlight, Moon Sugar.

"I actually took it from the pup that watches the Black-Briar peer. I'm not back on the Skooma." She reassured Catia as she gingerly dabbed some around the shaft of the arrow. The sensation was anything but pleasant, a mixture of hot and cold at the same time, but then it suddenly went completely numb. Wujeeta snapped off most of the shaft. "That should tide you over until you get back to the Ratways."

She helped Catia to her feet, "Thanks, Wujeeta."

When she entered the Cistern, there wasn't anyone there, save for Mercer, who was hunched over his desk. She silent made her way to him, stopping on the other side of the desk.

"You're alive." He commented, without raising his eyes from the apparently incredibly intriguing bit of parchment. "Was beginning to think you didn't make it."

Catia raised her eyebrow, though he wasn't looking at her, "I'm sure you saw the flames go up."

"I did, in fact. You're delayed return, however…" He trailed off, absentmindedly.

She tossed the bill of sale on the desk, covering up whatever he was reading, he made an annoyed grunt. "What's this mean?" She asked him.

He studied it for a moment, "It seems as if Aringoth has sold Goldenglow….the elf must have a death wish." He prattled on about angering Maven Black-Briar and some other stuff that Catia sort of tuned out.

"So Whiterun? Lovely." Catia scoffed, finally earning her a glance from Mercer. His eyes traveled from her face and over the armor that clung to her slight frame.

She was sure he was about to make some derogatory remark about something or other, but his eyes landed on the bit of arrow that was still sticking out of her hip. The pain was just starting to spur back up as the numbing from the Moon Sugar died away.

He frowned, "You've been hit."

"Yes, thanks, I'm aware." She snapped, glaring at him.

Mercer ignored the heated response and moved around the desk, turning her towards the light, he bent to examine the wound. He gently traced his fingers around it, the skin had become inflamed and it was slowly weeping blood.

He flattened his palm out over the area above the wound and quickly yanked the remaining bit of arrow out with a forceful tug.

Catia yelped and nearly dropped to the floor, in fact, she would have if Mercer hadn't caught her. In an uncharacteristically gentle manner, he led her around the desk, supporting most of her weight as he produced some healing potions and clean rags from somewhere in the desk.

The sudden sharpness had subsided and was replaced with a rather painful dull throb. Mercer tugged at the edges of her armor until he could access the bit of skin easily. He gently wiped away most of the blood and proceeded to dab the healing potion into the lesion. The potion must have been a strong one, because the skin immediately began knitting together, leaving behind a dark bruise with a bright pink scar running through it.

"Who knew that you'd be so concerned?" Catia mused, a smirk on her face.

Mercer straightened up to look her in the eye, he ran a smooth thumb over the tender skin, his hand resting on the curve of her hip. Catia was glad the Cistern was dimly lit as her cheeks suddenly grew flushed.

"Can't have you bleeding all over my desk." He told her as he ran his thumb back over the sensitive scar, he paused over the middle of it and pressed in lightly, causing Catia to cringe and jerk under his touch. She didn't move away, though, instead she settled for leveling him with a glare.

He moved his hand over her soft skin, underneath her armor until it landed on her lower back, the skin under his hand heating up quickly. He took a step forward, moving her legs apart with one of his knees. Their foreheads touched and their noses grazed as both of their breathing grew husky.

"We must quit meeting like this." Mercer commented, earning an amused sound from Catia.

Catia wasn't that much shorter than him, mere inches, but his commanding nature made her feel much smaller as his other hand deftly undid the buckles on her armor until it fell open. He grumbled as only an undershirt was revealed to him. He tugged at the armor until it came off completely before quickly discarding the undershirt.

He ran a soft hand over her breast as he pushed her onto the edge of the desk. Finally their lips met in a heated kiss, the buckles on Mercer's armor dug into Catia's bare skin. She could feel him against her as they moved together. After they broke apart, breathing heavily, Catia hastily pulled at his pants until she was able to take him in her hands.

Her delicate fingers wrapped around him and moved gently. He tilted his head back, eyes closing at her touch.

She pulled sharply on a strand of his hair, forcing him to look at her again as she slid off the desk onto her knees in front of him. She gave him a devious smile before wrapping her lips around him and taking him fully into her mouth.

He groaned as she started moving her head back and forth, using her tongue, lips, and hands to make him moan, her breast bobbing up and down as she moved. Her movements quickened and he leaned forward to support himself with the edge of the desk, his other hand tangled in her hair at the back of her head.

From this angle, he could see as one of her hands slipped down into her own pants and could feel the ensuing moan. He sneered and yanked her arm up, she looked up at him, her eyes wide. She tried to move away from him, but he wouldn't let her. He put his other hand on the back of her head and thrust into her mouth, causing her grip on the back of his leg to tighten in surprise.

He held it there until she squirmed, uncomfortably, from lack of air. He pulled out just enough for her to catch her breath. She gagged a bit as he did it again.

"Touch yourself." He commanded, contradicting his earlier command, his voice even darker than normal, if possible. He pulled out and pumped in again as she put her hand down her pants. Her eyes fluttered at the sensation. Mercer smartly tapped the side of her face. "Eyes open." He told her as he started to move her head back and forth.

Catia let out a muffled moan as she slightly started to rock her hips back and forth. She let out a stifled gasp as Mercer suddenly pulled away from her. He grabbed her upper arm and roughly yanked her up, her hand coming out from her trousers.

He turned her around and forcefully bent her over the desk. He jerked her pants down until they fell around her ankles. He grabbed her hips and pushed himself inside of her. She moaned as he started to pump into her.

Grabbing her hair he pulled her head up before wrapping his hand around her neck, daring her to lean forward again. He pulled her back from the desk a little bit, causing her to use her hands to support herself. She was so wet that he could hear himself sliding in and out of her, he began to move faster and harder, warranting a guttural moan from Catia, he could feel it vibrating through her throat.

He knew he was about to finish. A few more, nearly violent, thrusts, ones that would have caused Catia to fall forward if Mercer didn't have such a hold on her, did it for him. He pushed in as deep as he could go as he released his seed.

Catia tried to squirm away from him. His prolonged deep entrance was nearly more than she could handle.

"Where do you think you're going?" He rasped, pulling her back by the throat so that her back was pressed against him and her head was next to his. He used his other arm to hold her hips at an angle that allowed him to stay deep inside of her.

He snaked a hand down, enjoying the way her body tensed in anticipation. He gripped her neck firmly, letting her know that she wasn't going anywhere just yet, as he slid his fingers her folds, lightly brushing her sensitive area.

She jerked against him, letting out a gasp. He didn't give her much time to adjust to the sensation as he started moving his fingers rapidly. She wriggled in his arms, but there was hardly any way that she could move away from him.

She gave a loud, cracked, moan as her legs began to tremble. One of her arms moved up to his cheek and tangled in his hair. She pulled at it as he pushed her to the edge. He kept up a merciless rhythm as he moved his lips to the side of her neck and began sucking on in.

Catia cried out as her body finally gave in and spasmed. She tried to curl away from him, but he held her in place, still stroking her and dragging out the intense pleasure for as long as he could. He continued pleasuring her as he pulled out with a loud _squelch_.

He moved his other arm to her waist to hold her there as he continued to push her. Her body spasmed and jerked, she simultaneously wanted him to stop and keep going at the same time. She could feel their combined juices dripping down her thighs, making her skin sticky.

Finally, when the pain overshadowed the pleasure, he released her. She fell forward and caught herself on the edge of the desk, panting and occasionally twitching from an aftershock.

Mercer slapped her ass, earning a glare from Catia. When she looked at him, he already had his pants up and buckled and other than slightly mussed hair and the sheen of sweat on his brow, he looked completely at ease.

"Better get dressed. Wouldn't want anyone to find you in this…unsavory…position." He admired her slightly reddened hind end for a moment longer before tossing her undershirt at her.

She pulled the shirt over her head and bent over to pull her pants up, she wouldn't be able to walk right in the morning, "You still owe me a drink." She grumbled, earning a loud laugh from Mercer.

**a/n Yeah, so this chapter….I always feel awkward about posting smut /blushes…but it's sooo much fun to write, and this chapter is reaaaallly long. Yes, anyway, dirty Mercer…tell me what you think! Next chapter should be up soon ;)**

**xCecelia  
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	3. Breathe Today

**This chapter's title is from Flyleaf **

**Chapter 3 Breathe Today**

_The empty shape in you,_

_Steals your breath,_

_You're suffocating._

* * *

><p><em>She stepped into the new Sanctuary, admiring the banners and new décor that Delvin Mallory of the Thieves Guild had procured for them. The cold, hole in the ground was starting to look a bit more inviting. Still though, she missed the coziness of the Falkreath Sanctuary. Thinking of the old Sanctuary sent a pang of remorse through her chest.<em>

_She set off to find Nazir, check in, see how things were going with the new recruits. She couldn't say that she'd been that involved with the rebuilding of the Brotherhood. Sure, she had recovered the gold from Motierre and subsequently sought out Delvin to outfit their new Sanctuary, but that had really been the extent of it._

"_Listener." A hooded figure nodded to her as she entered the main commons area. She nodded in silence at the new recruit._

"_Ah, there you are, was wondering when you would show up." Nazir glanced up from whatever he was looking over. _

_Catia sat down near the fire, trying to warm her bones from the harsh cold that surrounded them in the Pale. "Sorry for my absence, I've had other things to attend to." She murmured, "How are things going with our new recruits?" she asked, nodding towards the one that had greeted her._

"_Very well, in fact." Nazir told her, he mentioned each one by name, how they were doing in their training, and any successful contracts that they had completed. "Your friend in the Guild did an excellent job here." He waved his hand around the room, indicating the new fixtures._

"_He was Astrid's friend." She couldn't help but let a bit of bitterness coat her tongue at the mention of their former leader._

"_He's your friend now." Nazir told her._

_She let Nazir warm her up a bit of stew as he filled her in on other news in the Brotherhood. She listened with half-hearted attention. The old Sanctuary had been like home, it was warm and inviting and filled with family. This new one was dark and cold and filled with strangers._

_That night as she tossed and turned in her lonely bed, she dreamt of infinite darkness and uncertainty surrounding her. She woke up more than once, unable to catch her breath. She had to admit though, it was almost a nice deviant from her normal nightmares, ones where lackadaisical emperors calmly accepted their deaths. Ones that woke her up with physical pains in her chest. How many people's lives had she ended in her time as an assassin? Too many to count, why did this one contract continually plague her every thought and dream?_

_She climbed out of bed and wandered around the dark Sanctuary. Everyone except Babette would be asleep or out on a job. She stopped by Babette's room to see if she was there, she could use some three hundred year old, child cynicism. Unfortunately, she seemed to be out too._

_Catia wandered some more until she heard a muffled sob. She searched until she found the passageway that it was coming from. She hadn't taken the time to properly acquaint herself with the new Sanctuary, but she had never been more taken aback by what she encountered when she rounded the corner._

_A torture chamber. She nearly screamed when she seen the emancipated bodies that were chained to wall in awkward positions._

_Had she agreed to this? Surely not…but she couldn't remember…she had eventually quit listening to Delvin's prattling about details and merely nodded when appropriate and handed over the coin when the time came._

_She had never intended this. Never. _

* * *

><p>Catia tensed, she could feel eyes on her as she put a few newly acquired possessions in her chest.<p>

She gasped softly as a firm hand grabbed her arm and pulled her into a dark corner. She collided with the body and was caught before she fell backwards. Wrapping her arms around Mercer's neck she returned his kiss with fervor.

They pulled apart, but Mercer kept his lips near her skin. "Maven Black-Briar wishes to speak with you." He told her, his voice dark, per usual, sending shivers down her spine. "She's a rather…important…client. So try not to anger her." He nipped gently at her ear lobe.

Catia kissed him softly, for once, deviating from their generally rough relationship. She tangled her fingers in his shaggy, dark hair. She hadn't seen him in a few days, he had either been out of the Cistern or she had been out doing jobs around the city for Delvin and Vex. Surprisingly, he gently returned the soft kiss. There was a bit of stubble on his chin that tickled her skin as their lips moved together.

The strange change in behavior sent Catia's mind reeling. There was an odd warmth in her chest, it warmed her cheeks. When they broke apart, she cast her eyes to the side, suddenly nervous in her position.

She slowly slipped away from him, "Best not keep her waiting then." She mumbled, turning to grab the dagger that she always kept on her. Mercer let her go without saying anything.

As she entered the city, Catia blocked thoughts of Mercer from her head. The last thing she needed to do was get emotionally attached. What they had, it was purely physical, sex and lust, nothing more. To let anything more get between them would be purely unprofessional.

She found Maven upstairs at the Bee and Barb, she had grinned jovially to Keerava as she entered the inn and if looks could kill, Keerava would have had her killed in seconds.

"So you're the new thief?" Maven eyed her with a bit of distaste. "I was expecting someone a little more…impressive."

Catia wondered if Maven talked to Mercer and Brynjolf this way, she couldn't imagine either of them taking it well. But Mercer's words echoed through her ears, _don't make her angry._ She kept to her favored tactic, silence.

"In any case," Maven continued, "I have a rather difficult job for you in Whiterun, it's prudent that you don't mess it up. Since our…issue..with Goldenglow, production has decreased slightly, I need you to take out the competition. Honningbrew is a relatively new meadery, I want you to find out how Sabjorn managed to get up and running so fast. That coin had to come from somewhere."

Catia nodded slightly, indicating that she understood.

"Woman of few words." Maven observed, "I can nearly appreciate that, you're either smart or incredibly dumb, I'll reserve that judgment for later. Maccius will be in the Bannered Mare. I suggest you finish this job as quickly as possible." She turned back to whatever she had been doing before Catia had arrived. She glanced, irritated, over her shoulder, "You can leave now."

Catia bit her tongue, keeping her smart remarks to herself. Downstairs, she gave a slight nod to Sapphire, who was scouting the afternoon crowds. Outside she could hear Brynjolf selling his 'potions' as she passed him, she was quite keen to return to the dark calm of the Ratways, her blood was still warm from her 'chat' with Maven.

Mercer waved her over once she entered the Cistern. She had a complimentary tankard of mead in hand, courtesy of Vekel.

"You look like you could use a little loosening up." He had told her.

She approached Mercer's desk and set the tankard down with a loud bang. "How can you stand doing business with that insufferable woman?" she seethed.

Mercer nearly laughed, "Coin doesn't care about social etiquette, Lione."

Catia's small hands balled up into fists.

"Relax," Mercer said, his voice still raspy, but unusually gently. He moved around to lean against the desk in front of her. He captured her clenched fist in his hands, "Tell me about the job." He worked her hands open, rubbing his thumb over the half-moon indentions left in her palm.

"She wouldn't give me hardly any details, just to talk to some fellow named Mallius in Whiterun and take out the competition, find out who was funding it. And the job was dangerous and 'do try not to mess it up.'" She mimicked Maven's pompous accent.

Mercer smirked at her description as he placed his hands on her hips, she had unconsciously moved to stand between his knees. "I would say, don't cross her, she has ties with the Brotherhood, but all things considered…"

This caused a quirk of a smile to spring onto Catia's face. "Does she really threaten people with that?" She let out a bit of a laugh. "I'd never even heard of her until I came down here." She motioned to the Cistern.

"You never told me why you came here." He stated as he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer.

She absentmindedly toyed with a buckle on his armor before sighing. "I just…had a hard time…dealing with some of the things that happened in the Brotherhood." She paused, "I hadn't taken a contract in months before I came here." Her fingers moved up to play with the ends of his hair, she seemed distracted by her memories.

Mercer rubbed her back, comfortingly. She frowned, he wasn't sure at what exactly, but before he had a chance to ask, the secret entrance slid open with a gravelly sound. She took a step back, pulling out of his grasp.

Once again she wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I suppose I'll leave tonight, then. Might as well get it over with…" she trailed off before turning away from him.

Catia went to pack some things for her trip to Whiterun. Her thoughts were clouded by Mercer's actions. He was always so brusque and gruff, and before all their interactions had been so rough and purely sexual. This new, softer, gentler side of him had completely thrown her.

She had to admit, she kind of liked it.

Mercer watched her across the Cistern. He felt the urge to follow her, to be near her and touch her warm skin and run his fingers through her soft hair, but he didn't allow himself to. He wasn't used to these thoughts. Sure he occasionally craved a woman's touch, especially when he was younger, before he got his priorities straight.

But that's all he had with Catia. They had been indulging their more carnal desires with each other, it was convenient to them both. He had always been more concerned with making coin than anything else, it had always been where his mind was. So why did he suddenly find Catia's face there too?

He nearly wished that she had never shown up in the Ratways, but the rest of the Guild adored her. She was quiet and stoic around the other Guild members, but she was pulling in a lot of gold and turning jobs over rather quickly.

She was going to be a problem, he was sure of it. He could feel it in the pit of his stomach. He was going to regret ever letting her into the Guild.

* * *

><p><strong>an: There were no sexy times in this chapter…I didn't want to go in for overkill :P Thanks everyone for all the faves and reviews! It makes me so happy to see my inbox full of them :D**

**xCecelia**


	4. Set It On Fire

**This chapter title is from My Darkest Days!**

**Chapter 4 Set It On Fire**

_You got a smile that knocks me down._

She passed the meadery on her way into the city. She gave it a once over, but Catia's mind was elsewhere as she made her way through the gates. Her increasingly confusing relationship with Mercer was all that had been on her mind since she had left Riften.

It had been quite a while since she had been in Whiterun, in fact, the last time she was here was when she got the location of the payment from Motierre. She had promptly slit his throat, mercilessly, and fled the city. Even now, after all this time, her heart felt cold at the thought of the whole debacle.

She dropped off her things at Breezehome. The first of her two houses that she owned. She was rather surprised to find Lydia, her estranged housecarl, sitting near the fire when she entered.

A hand flew to her chest. "Lydia! I didn't expect you to be here!" she exclaimed.

No emotion passed over Lydia's face. "Where else would I be...my Thane?" she asked.

"I don't know, anywhere? I haven't been here in ages…" Catia told her. Thane wasn't one of her favored titles and one that she avoided at all costs, but it was a nice cover for her…darker deeds. "You don't have to stay here all the time. You're allowed to go out and…do things."

"Thank you, my Thane." Lydia said, but it seemed more of a required sentiment.

Catia dropped it. She put her stuff away, told Lydia that she had to meet someone, and went back out into the sunny weather gracing Whiterun. Normally she didn't like the bright light, but today she reveled in the distracting weather. It chased the dark images of Mercer from her mind.

She found Mallus in the Bannered Mare, just as Maven said she would. He was nervous and fidgety and Catia had to convince him that she was the one Maven sent.

Finally she leveled him with her, 'don't cross me, I'm an assassin, and I have no qualms about ending you' glare. It worked because he immediately got much more chatty and compliant. She smirked a bit.

Mallus sure was a waspy Imperial, she had to give him that.

The job seemed simple enough, kill a few skeevers, poison some mead, watch the place self destruct.

She was doing well with the first part, dispatching the skeevers with ease. There were an unusual amount though, she noticed, she had never encountered this many at once.

The narrow passageway opened into a wide, low room. She instantly dropped into a crouch and pulled out one of her throwing knives. There was an extremely disheveled man muttering to himself over an alchemy table in the far corner. At his feet sat a couple of the large rats, nearly giving the impression that they were the man's pets.

Catia debated her options, kill him, or attempt to talk to him. He surely didn't look sociable and when his skeevers pointed their nose to the air, picking up her scent, she made her decision.

She let the small dagger go, it embedded itself into the man's left shoulder, where his heart should have been. She waited for him to fall. To her surprise, however, he turned around, seeking out his assailant with crazed eyes.

The skeevers found her first, she did away with a couple of them with a wide sweep of her blade. The man, she noticed, had flames and sparks dancing around his fingers, _damn mages_, she grumbled to herself as she rolled out of the path of his magic.

Upon landing she threw another knife, it rooted in his arm, disabling the fire with a loud squall from the hunched man. He sent a stream of sparks her way. She wasn't quite fast enough as it grazed her upper arm with a sizzle and a shock.

She snarled at him. She pulled out one more knife, aimed for his neck, and with a flick of her wrist he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

Approaching his body, she pulled her knives from his skin, wiped the blood on her pant leg and tucked them back into her belt. She curled her lip at him before plucking up the journal next to his alchemy table, it was an old habit, collecting people's journals.

Catia poisoned the nest and carried on through the underground of Honningbrew Meadery. Really, you would think people would investigate the land that they decided to build their businesses on. How did they miss the crazed lunatic that lived under the building?

After dropping the poison into the vat, she returned to watch Commander Caius 'taste' the reserve and subsequently drag a befuddled Sabjorn off to the prison under Dragonsreach. Mallus cackled at the man's misfortune and offered Catia a tankard of mead…which she turned down.

She collected the information that she needed and made a swift exit from the meadery. Gathering her things from Breezehome, she began her journey back to Riften. Her pace was quick, she was eager to return to the corrupted city and it's even darker underbelly, a place she was quickly realizing felt like home.

The sun was quickly setting when she made it through the gates. Brynjolf had just packed up his stall and was making his way through the dark alleyways towards the secret entrance. She sped up to catch him.

"Ah, Lass, you're back sooner than expected." He greeted her as they walked down the path behind the houses.

"It was a quick job, really." She shrugged and handed over the promissory note that she had found in Sabjorn's dresser. "I don't recognize this symbol." She pointed to strange note.

Brynjolf took it from her and stopped near a street lantern to get a better look at it. After studying it for a moment, he said he didn't recognize it either. "Mercer has an eye for these sorts of things. We'll take it to him."

Catia's heart lurched uncomfortably; she was both excited and anxious about seeing Mercer.

Once in the Cistern, Brynjolf presented the note to Mercer. He didn't know the symbol either, but the name on the paper seemed to ring a bell.

"I'll have to research it a little bit." He said.

Brynjolf left to put his things away, leaving Catia awkwardly standing there. Mercer had his hand propped on the desk, leaning over the note. His dark hair had fallen forward, obscuring his eyes.

Catia's hand moved before she had a chance to stop it. She reached up to brush his hair from his face. She caught herself as her fingertips touched his ear and immediately dropped her hand.

He glanced up at her. He had been determined not to pay any mind to her anymore, to end the sordid affair with her, but when he looked at her, her dark hair falling out of her braids, her ice blue eyes looking confused and uncertain, he let the corner of his mouth twitch up in a half smile.

There were too many thieves roaming the Cistern for him to do anything. He settled for briefly grasping her hand and a bit of relief glanced over her features.

"What happened here?" He frowned, turning her a bit. He studied the blistered welt that had formed on her arm, the armor around it was scorched and curled up with heat.

Catia's awkwardness vanished. "Oh, oh! Maccius failed to inform me that there was a crazed lunatic living under the meadery! Insane! He was breeding an army of skeevers! Skeevers!" she said it again for emphasis, flailing her arms. "Anyway, he was quite talented with the sparks spell." She shrugged a bit. In her haste to get back to Riften, she had completely blocked out the pain from the wound.

Mercer allowed himself to smile at her animated retelling. "You really must learn to be more careful." He reached to undo the buckles on her armor.

She scowled and swatted his hands away, glancing nervously around the Cistern. Instead, she undid the buckles and gingerly peeled the leather back from the weeping skin. Mercer had pulled a chair near the desk and lit a few extra lanterns for light. He helped her finish taking the jacket off as she was cringing and letting out gasps of pain every so often.

"If Niruin were here, I'd have him heal you up. However, he just left this morning, so I'll have to do what I can." Mercer told her, his voice gravelly, as he gathered a few rags and potions.

He gently picked some bits of leather out of her skin before dousing a rag in some luminescent green liquid. He was kneeling beside the chair, so that he was eye level with the welt. With the soaked rag in his right hand, he laid his left hand across her lap. She eyed it for a moment.

"It's going to sting." He warned her. She gently took his hand.

Catia squalled as the potion hit her skin. She was sure that it hurt worse than actually getting the wound had. Of course, she had completely blocked it from her thoughts, focusing on other things, and thus letting it blister, leak, and fester the whole way back to Riften.

Mercer tried to be as gentle as he could while still coating the affected area. Catia controlled her volume, slightly, emitting whimpers now, instead, and gripping his hand tightly. Her head ducked and eyes squeezed shut.

Rune was nearby and brought a calming elixir over and after a nod from Mercer, held it to her lips, tipping it into her mouth. He took a glance at her injured arm and grimaced, he patted her shoulder softly.

Next Mercer covered the area with a thick concoction that eased the pain a bit. Catia glanced up as the acuteness of the injury subsided a bit. She flexed her fingers, finding that Mercer had pulled his hand away, she frowned, already missing his touch. After wiping away the gelatinous solution, Mercer dabbed a healing potion on it and neatly dressed the wound in clean bandages.

Catia sighed and dropped her head back, looking at the high ceiling of the Cistern. "Thanks, Mercer." She said, she smiled over at Rune and thanked him too.

Rune ruffled her hair, which was now almost completely loose, "No problem, sister." He returned her smile.

"I'm sleepy." She murmured, her eyelids becoming heavy. She rubbed one of her eyes and Mercer had to force himself to not be mesmerized by how innocent she looked. He had to remind himself that she was far from innocent, she was as lethal as they come, and her mere presence spelled out trouble.

Catia stated that she was going to go to bed. She stood up and swayed on her feet. Mercer caught her as she fell to the side. He grumbled as she crashed into his chest.

Rune offered to take her to her bed, which was on the other side of the Cistern. Mercer tried not to show his reluctance at letting the other man pull her from his arms, but he watched their awkward trek across the Cistern, until she was safely in bed.

* * *

><p>Mercer ran a hand through his hair and sighed. He'd been staring at these papers for hours, it was giving him a headache.<p>

The Cistern was too quiet for his liking. With Catia bringing in gold and making a name for the Guild again, the other thieves seemed to have a renewed energy, more of them were out on jobs than not.

He wondered if Vekel was still in the Flagon, he could use a drink.

He couldn't help himself, he stopped beside Catia's bed. She was twisted in her sheets and a slight glean of perspiration could be seen over her forehead. She was muttering in her sleep. He knelt down to see if he could catch any words.

Most of it was indecipherable. Something about betrayal, and listening better. Her mother and an unchild…torture room…a silly fool.

None of it made sense to him, but she was becoming increasingly stressed about whatever it was she was dreaming of. He brushed her hair from her forehead.

"Mercer." She murmured, her eyes slowly fluttering open. The tense muscles in her face and brow eased instantly.

"You were dreaming." He informed her.

Her eyes clouded over, "Yes…they're never good dreams."

He moved to sit on the bed next to her, taking her hands in his. "From your time with the Brotherhood?"

She nodded. "Yes." It took her a moment to go on, her hands fidgeting around Mercer's, "I…there was a lot of…bad things…that happened."

Mercer nodded, encouraging her.

Catia shook her head, as if casting the thoughts aside. "Sometimes my blood still runs cold."

Mercer leaned forward and breathed soft kisses on her cheek. She smiled softly, reaching up to touch his hair.

When she fell back to sleep, clutching Mercer's hand, it was with a content smile on her lips.

* * *

><p><strong>an I have a complete hate crush on Mercer Frey….something about bad boys….**

**I'll admit, this chapter and the one before it were a bit slow…but I think you'll enjoy the next one ;)**

**xCecelia**


	5. Howl

**Howl: Florence and the Machine.**

**Chapter 5 Howl **

_I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free_

_The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound_

Catia was in Solitude. She had almost convinced Mercer to come with her, but it would have been too suspicious, it wasn't like she needed a babysitter on her jobs. He did promise those drinks to her though, when she came back, although, with the sly smirk he gave her, she suspected that drinks wasn't all she was likely to get.

Gulum-Ei was being difficult, just like Brynjolf said he would be. She had to steal a case of firebrand whiskey for him to get one, lone, piece of information from him. It was a woman who had a grudge against Mercer.

"You must know more than that." She pressed, but she wasn't charming like Brynjolf was, or intimidating like Mercer. Gulum-Ei shook his head.

Frustrated, she followed the Argonian out of the Winking Skeever. Brynjolf told her that she wasn't allowed to kill him (of course, she wasn't allowed to have any fun), but he didn't say anything about the bandits in the secret cave that he entered. She picked them off easily with her bow, most didn't even know it was coming until it was too late.

Gulum-Ei stood, cowering, at the end of the cavern as Catia put an arrow through the last bandit's neck.

"This isn't as bad as it looks." Gulum-Ei tried, nearly trembling.

Catia laughed, "Sure, sure. I bet Mercer would love to know about this." She waved her hand around at the loot that was lining the walls.

He looked stricken, maybe Catia couldn't intimidate, but just Mercer's name could do the trick, even if he was on the other side of the country.

"He doesn't have to know!" Gulum-Ei's voice was suddenly three octaves higher.

"I suppose I'll be the judge of that." Catia told him, fingering her throwing knives.

"Fine, fine. I'll give you your information." Gulum-Ei relented. "Karliah, it was Karliah. I didn't know it was her though, until it was too late! I would never have agreed to it if I knew!" he seemed desperate to convince Catia of this.

She didn't know who Karliah was, but Gulum-Ei quickly filled her in on the essentials. She had been involved with the former Guild Master, but had betrayed the Guild and murdered him. Now she was after Mercer.

Catia's blood heated up at the thought of someone trying to disgrace and murder Mercer. She got the last bits of information that she would need and quickly left the cave. In, her haste, she barely escaped the warehouse without notice. She left for Riften, straightaway.

It was dark when she entered the city and in her haste to get to the secret entrance, she didn't notice the hooded figure until he grabbed her and shoved her up against the wall. She was about to retaliate until she was silenced by a pair of lips that she was very fond of.

"Mercer." She murmured against his lips. His hands roamed over her body, half for the pleasure and half to check for wounds that she so frequently came back with.

After assuring himself that she was in perfect health, he upped the heat a bit. She gripped the straps of his armor as he moved his lips to her neck, his breath leaving hot trails on her skin. She made noise in the back of her throat and rotated her hips against his as he nipped at her ear.

He stepped back and glanced up and down the deserted alleyway. He had the hood of his armor up, it was the first time that Catia had seen him wear it. If anything, it made him look even more sinister and foreboding. She could see his wry mouth and dark eyes glittering from under the shadows it cast.

She let him lead her down the dark alleys, excitement running high in her veins, her mind briefly forgetting what she had learned in Solitude. The trip that led them to the shadowy garden had been filled with stolen kisses and touches, and even as Mercer unlocked the door, their lips still found a way to touch.

Inside, she let her eyes glance around, taking in the décor. It was furnished, but there were few personal touches. Seeing her inquisitive stares, Mercer explained.

"The Black-Briars gave it to me, the house. I rarely use it, of course, but I thought it might come in handy." He gave her a lust filled look as they entered the bedroom.

The way his eyes grazed over her made her blood heat up pleasantly. Without a second thought, she launched herself at him, clamping her knees on either side of his hips. The momentum propelled them backwards until they fell onto the bed. Their fingers moving to swiftly remove the others armor.

Finally everything was gone, sporadically strewn across the floor. A boot over there, a glove in that corner, rough kisses and soft caresses interspersed.

Catia straddled him, leaned forward, kissing him and nipping his skin. Mercer moved to flip them over, but Catia was having no part of that. She pushed him back down into the pillows with stern hands, Mercer's eyes widened ever so slightly at her actions, but one look at her face clearly stated that _she_ was in charge this time. If he were going to object, a simple rotation of her hips quickly silenced him.

She traced the lines of his muscles, watching them tense under her slight pressure. She leaned forward again, kissing him gently as she raised her hips up. Poised above him, he guided himself into her.

Straightening up, she rocked her hips a couple of times, he groaned as he gripped her sides. She lightly traced a line down the middle of his torso, earning a suspicious glance, which was rewarded with a sly smile.

It didn't take long for her to set a swift pace, she gripped Mercer's arms as she moved over him. She knew that he was nearly finished when he held her hips in place and bucked up into her.

She only gave him a moment to rest before she pulled herself off of him. He recovered faster than she expected and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her to him, he kissed her. It was rough, tongue, _teeth_, and lips crashing together and when they broke apart they were both panting for breath.

Mercer watched as she gave him a devious look and slithered her way down the bed, running her hands over the planes of his abdomen and tracing the lines over his pelvis. She danced her fingers over his already forming erection. He breathed in sharply as she ran her tongue lightly over its length, tasting their combined juices and grinning widely.

She teased him a bit longer, making him grow more and more frustrated, and while she liked watching him squirm under her touch, she didn't want him taking matters into his own…hands. She took him into her mouth in one quick plunge, earning her a gruff moan. The noise excited her and she quickly went to work.

He ran his fingers through her hair as she brought him closer and closer to competition. Her grey-blue eyes glancing up at him and her rear end in the air, with the occasional flash of her breast added to the pleasure as he finally did finish. She raised up, a satisfied smirk dancing around her reddened lips.

Mercer wasted no time grabbing her and switching their positions. "Your turn." He gave her a toothy grin as he pushed her down onto the bed. He leaned forward to plant a gentle kiss on her lips. He lingered there a moment, nipping at her lower lip as his hand slipped between her thighs.

Her quick intake of breath made him smirk as he raised up to watch her. She squirmed under his touch, moaning softly. Her color in her cheeks darkened and her breathing increased. He increased his speed, moving in and out of her with more force while simultaneously teasing her more sensitive area.

She was nearly ready to finish, he placed his hand over her lower abdomen, just between her hipbones, to ensure that she couldn't move away from him. He held her down firmly as she writhed in pleasure. She whimpered as he continued to push her, she jerked against him, trying to move away.

Finally he quit and ran his hands over her trembling body, feeling the heat rolling off of her. He kissed her passionately, cupping her face in both of his hands. She responded fervently, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"Once more," She whispered against his skin, "But together this time."

He smiled into her hair, reaching down to stroke himself until he was fully aroused. She wrapped her legs around his hips as he pushed into her. She rolled her hips up to meet him, gasping slightly at the sudden fullness.

He raised up slightly to brush her hair from her forehead as he started to move inside of her. She bit her lower lip as spikes of pleasure shot through her muscles. Her breast bobbed gently with the rhythm, lightly grazing Mercer's chest above her. She could feel a roaring in her ears as he increased the pace, driving her closer to the edge.

Her lips were caught in a rough kiss just as she felt her muscles tighten up. She gripped his shoulders as her hips jerked up against his, she moaned loudly as her back arched. Mercer's gruff tones melded with hers as he pushed in deeper and hard than he had previously. Soon they were both bucking against each other.

Catia was sure that the whole of Riften could hear their screams and moans as they furiously thrust together. Mercer held her tightly to him as they both shuddered in release, breathing shakily and enjoying the aftershock, still joined together.

Afterwards they lay tangled with each other, the sheets rumpled underneath them. Mercer pulled a fur up to cover their exposed bodies. Catia was a bit hesitant, unsure of his intentions, but finally gave in, allowing Mercer to pull her close.

He pushed her mussed hair from her face and kissed her forehead. "You seem uncertain." He commented in his gravelly voice that, despite her current state of exhaustion, sent excitement coursing through her veins.

"No….well, yes, to be honest. I don't…trust..myself with these feelings..that I've developed for…you." She stumbled over her words. Talking about feelings wasn't something she was good at and talking about these kinds of feelings, with the person they concerned, well, it was nerve racking, it made her stomach swirl, and it felt like the ground had dropped out from under her as she awaited his response.

"I can say the same for myself." Mercer frowned, his fingers absentmindedly traced patterns over her skin.

She shifted so that she could see his face. The hard planes of his face softened as she reached up to touch the ends of his hair. "Your hair is getting long." She murmured, tugging at a strand that had fallen forward. He tucked a piece of her own hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek gently. "Where does trust fit into a relationship between a thief and an assassin?" Catia asked softly.

Mercer shifted her until she was laying next to him, her head on his shoulder, her hand splayed across his chest. She lightly traced the scars that littered his skin. She didn't think he was going to answer for a while.

"I don't know, I suppose we just have to make due." He told her.

It wasn't a promise of a rosy love. It didn't talk of happy memories to be made. But she would take it, for two people in their situation, it was the best she could hope for. She wondered how Mercer felt about it; his voice didn't indicate any particular emotion.

As if to answer her unspoken question, he kissed the top of her head softly, squeezing her to him. They curled around each other as they fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>an: So a little action in this one, and if I remember correctly, there will be more in the next chapter…which should be out tomorrow, once I edit it ;)**

**I hope you're enjoying playing with Mercer as much as I am!**

**xCecelia**


	6. Do You Realize?

**Here's a quickie for your Sunday afternoon! The Flaming Lips are to thank for this chapter title **

**Chapter 6 Do You Realize? **

_You realize that life goes fast_

_It's hard to make the good things last_

Catia woke up the next morning warm and cocooned in soft furs, but the bed was noticeably absent of Mercer. She rubbed her eyes as she pushed herself into a sitting position. Bleary eyed, she watched as he went about gathering their discarded clothes and separating them into two neat piles on the bed.

"What are you grinning at?" he asked, his voice still containing that morning scruffiness.

She stretched, languidly, yawning. "You just look adorable when you do domestic things." She grinned, "Are you going to make me breakfast next?" She teased.

Mercer grimaced. His hair was tangled and sticking up in the back, he was just wearing an undershirt and the trouser part of his armor. Catia smiled dreamily at him, still half asleep, and the grimace fell from his face, replaced with a look that could only be described as happy. He sat back on the bed, propped up against the headboard and pulled her close to him. She lazily traced the contours of his torso, under his shirt, as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"The person who's out to get the Guild, she's really out to get you." Catia told him. "Gulum-Ei said her name was Karliah. Said she murdered the previous Guild Master and was now out to get you." She stilled her hand and shifted to look at him.

The range of emotions that were playing over Mercer's normally schooled features was astounding. Anger, fury, regret, vengeance. She felt him tense underneath her, his grip tightened ever so slightly. As soon as they were there, they were gone again. His face becoming a mask.

"Did he say what she was going to do next?" he asked, his voice gruff.

Catia shook her head, "No, well, she said, 'where the end began.'"

Mercer huffed, "Snow Veil Sanctum. Where Gallus was murdered."

"I guess that's my next destination, then." Catia sighed, rolling over so that she could stare at the ceiling.

"I'll go this time." He told her, catching her hand in his.

She pursed her lips. "I'm going with you."

"There's no need for that, it's dangerous."

Catia rolled her eyes. "Danger, okay, suppose I'll stay home then." She huffed. "Nonsense. This woman is out to kill you Mercer. It's not like I'm some green thief, I'm a highly trained assassin."

"I never knew what role you played in the Brotherhood." Mercer changed the subject. "For all I know, you could be an initiate."

"I'm the Listener. I assassinated the Emperor." She deadpanned, unconcerned with whichever tenet she just broke by telling him those things.

He paused for a second, allowing his brain to absorb that information. To absorb just how deadly she really was. "When we met in Solitude…"

"I was there carrying out the assassination of Vittoria Vici." She said, not letting any emotion color her voice.

"They never caught you."

She scoffed, "Of course not." After a moment of silence she asked what he had been doing in Solitude.

"Royal wedding. Lots of loot." He shrugged.

"I'm still going with you to Snow Veil Sanctum." She answered.

Mercer relented, begrudgingly, "Fine. We leave in the morning."

She flipped over and moved to straddle him. Her hair was still disheveled and tangled, falling into her face. Her eyes were laden with sleep and she was still completely unclothed. Mercer couldn't help the catch in his breath as his hands moved to tease her and before she had a chance to claim control, he flipped them over and pinned her to the bed, a devilish smile creeping across his lips.

* * *

><p>Windhelm was cold. Catia hated it. She hated the snow. Wasn't that one of her problems with the Dawnstar Sanctuary? Well, that and the torture room, coupled with that crippling guilt of murdering the Emperor…and also the betrayal of Astrid that led to them moving there. She huffed, earning a concerned glance from Mercer.<p>

He was tense. Of course, Catia could see why, there was a woman out for his blood, after all. She could tell that he hadn't wanted to stop in Windhelm for the night, but other than the fact that Catia was wrapped in so many furs that she would have been useless if they had been attacked, they really did need to be well rested if they were to defeat this Karliah. He had been trapped in his own thoughts for most of the journey, but one look at Catia's blued lips snapped him out of it and he suggested staying over at Candlehearth Hall.

Catia tugged on her hood, trying to cover more of her face. Imperials weren't exactly welcome in Windhelm and while she carried no particular opinion of the war, she really didn't want any trouble. As it turned out, though, no one was really paying any mind to the pair of them. Apparently one of the inn's own had been murdered recently and the aftereffects were being felt hard among the regular patrons.

Mercer left the room that he had rented for the both of them to get some food. Catia sat shivering under a thick fur by the fire, her fingers still numb from the cold.

She must have dozed off, her head propped up on her hand, because the next thing she knew, Mercer was sitting behind her, pulling her up against him. He captured her hands and began to rub warmth into them. She sighed and leaned her head back on his shoulder, turning her face just slightly so that she could nuzzle his neck.

After her fingers had returned to a normal temperature, Mercer wrapped his arms around her as they gazed into the fire.

Dinner was small and conversation was sparse. Catia was tired and still cold. She stripped down to her undergarments and climbed into bed. She watched as Mercer paced around the room, busying himself with menial tasks.

"Please come lay down." She requested from her nest of furs.

He glanced over at her like he had forgotten that she was in the room. "I'm not really tired."

"But I'm cold and….feeling rather neglected." She tried to keep the gloomy tone from her voice; she was really beginning to hate this Karliah for taking Mercer's attention from her.

Mercer seemed to sense this, he crossed the room and took her face in his hands, kissing her full on the mouth. He proceeded to undress and climb in under the blankets. Catia reveled in the warmth of his body as she breathed in his unique scent of leather and musk. He kissed the top of her head and held her close.

* * *

><p>They had decided to go on foot for the rest of their journey. Mercer acquired fur lined gloves and socks for Catia before they left, for which she was eternally grateful.<p>

"It's a shame that we didn't utilize our alone time and this room last night." Catia commented as Mercer walked back into the room from wherever he had disappeared to. She was in the process of changing clothes and was standing stark naked in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips, wearing just her new gloves and socks. Mercer quickly shut the door.

He frowned as he realized that he had been too caught up in the implications of having Catia and Karliah in the same room together to take advantage of his traveling partner.

He slowly approached her, taking in her appearance as he did. He ran his hands over her soft curves as he got closer, the grimace he had been wearing since they left Riften momentarily replaced with that cocky smirk.

She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his trousers, biting her lower lip and giving him her best devious look. He teased her breast as she quickly undid the buckles of his pants.

"Let me help you with that." She lightly traced his half formed erection, causing him to harden in her hand.

He pushed her onto the bed, devouring her in a rough kiss. Skipping the foreplay, he pulled her to the edge of the bed and immediately pushed into her, causing her to squall at the suddenness. She squirmed as he wasted no time getting into a quick rhythm. He pulled her to him with each thrust, she moaned loudly at the deepness and the fullness she felt as he pushed his entire length into her.

He was straining to release when he stopped driving into her. He stayed hilt deep in her and reached forward to grab her chin, commanding her to look at him. Her cheeks were flushed and the slight sheen of perspiration glittered over her skin.

He roughly held her head so that she was forced to look him in the eye as he relentlessly teased her most sensitive part. She writhed and moaned, trying to turn away from him. She could feel the pressure building in every nerve and muscle as her hips started to rock. Her cries became guttural and broken and Mercer's face glinted with smug satisfaction as he watched her try not to let her eyes roll back.

Soon though, she had no choice, the unrelenting strokes on her and the stern hand on her chin sent her body into a frenzy. Her nipples hardened almost painfully and she couldn't have looked away from Mercer if she tried as her hips bucked up against him. The noises coming from her were almost animalistic. Mercer's eyes sparked as he started driving into her again.

She squirmed and tried to frantically wriggle away from him, not having any time to recover from the intense release. He was having no part of it, she was still convulsing every few seconds as he grabbed her hips and easily controlled her movements.

He gave her a moments reprieve as he pulled out long enough to throw her further up on the bed and climb in on top of her. He reentered her swiftly, earning him a throaty moan. She could feel another release building as he increased the speed and depth of his thrusts. Her nipples grazed the rough fabric of his undershirt as they bobbed up and down, violently, with the motion, sending bolts of lightning up her spin.

She twisted underneath him, trying to move away from the intense pleasure, it was nearly too much to handle. But Mercer was drilling into her like his life depended on it and her hips jerked up involuntarily.

Finally her body relented, her back arching up with a breathy moan. In the resulting tremors that followed Mercer found his release with his own deep growl. Before pulling out, Mercer kissed her, it was long and sensuous and filled with more emotions than Catia could understand.

**a/n: We are now officially one chapter over halfway through. There are only four chapters left! Eep!**


	7. Cold Blooded Man

**I almost feel guilty for posting this, and the last few chapters, but it had to happen sometime…this chapter's title/quote is from The Pretty Reckless.**

**Chapter 7** **Cold Blooded Man**

_Can't trust a cold blooded man,_

_He'll love you and leave you alive._

Catia lay on the cold stone floor, unable to move, unable to voice her opinion. Unable to talk sense into Mercer who was standing above her with his sword drawn. Unable to let the tears she knew would be streaming down her face at this very moment go.

Mercer had murdered Gallus and framed Karliah.

He didn't want her to return to the Guild with this information. Of course, she wasn't able to tell him that she wouldn't. Sure, she enjoyed the Guild and the time she spent there, but the majority of her allegiance lay with Mercer. She would have followed him wherever he was going to go, whatever plan he had, she would always take his side.

But he hadn't worked this out. He didn't know. She never told him, she never foresaw an event that would require her telling him. She was too caught up with her own fears over whatever her and Mercer had, that she hadn't taken the time to tell him just how deeply her feelings for him ran.

Suddenly, the inexplicably urgent kiss from earlier that day started to make sense. Mercer had saw this coming. It was what had been occupying his mind since they left Riften yesterday. Not that someone was out to kill him, that he could handle, but that Catia might find out the secret of why she wanted his blood, and the implications of that…she realized then why he didn't want her to come with him on this trip. She cursed herself for not listening to him.

He knelt in front of her, his eyes filled with more emotion than she had ever seen in them. A flurry of understanding and fear shot through her. He brushed the hair from her face and leaned forward to kiss the top of her forehead. She wanted to reach out and tell him that he didn't have to do this, that she was on his side.

It was a moment she wouldn't be afforded, however, and his sword was swift as it pierced her heart.

* * *

><p>She was surprised when she slowly blinked her eyes open. She was supposed to be dead. She tried to sit up, hoping that it was just all an awful dream and that Mercer was still there, waiting to wrap his arms around her.<p>

Mercer wasn't there, though, a dark elf loomed into her blurry vision, placing a hand on her shoulder and easing her up.

"Easy now, not so fast." The velvety voice told her. Karliah. "Here drink this." She pushed a small vial of a healing potion into her hand.

Catia looked at the reddish potion and glanced back up at Karliah, who was crouched beside her, studying her face. She dropped the potion and immediately burst into tears. She hadn't cried in years and she cursed Mercer for being the cause of them.

Why hadn't he come to his senses and pulled her out of that cairn himself? Why was she sitting here with the woman whom she hated for being the one to tear them apart? At that moment she hated Mercer for being, as Festus Krex would have said, stupid. He was a complete idiot.

She frowned and picked up the forgotten potion, downing the vial and discarding the bottle.

"Why am I alive?" she asked Karliah after she composed herself.

The elf told her about paralytic potions and trying to shoot Mercer, but not having a clear shot and so on, at some point Catia quit listening.

"Well, I guess I owe you one for keeping me alive." Catia shrugged.

"I'd really just rather have your help." The elf told her. "With bringing Mercer down. He murdered Gallus, slandered my name, and condemned me to a life on the run for 25 years and I want him to pay for it."

_Yeah, well, he made me fall in love with him and then stabbed me in the heart, literally._ Catia thought with a grimace, conflicting emotions of sadness and anger battling in out in her mind. "Fine, but I get to be the one that kills him." Anger won out.

Karliah seemed to think this over for a moment, "Alright. Deal."

* * *

><p>Every move was clouded by thoughts of Mercer. Anger, vengeance, resentment, and most painful, longing, filled every fiber of her being. She was loath to admit it, but she<em> missed<em> Mercer, a lot. She hated him for it.

Another thing she didn't want to admit was that she actually liked Karliah. The elf was quick witted and contained a dark humor that someone like Catia could be fond of.

They had traveled to Winterhold to visit with Enthir, who was a friend of Gallus's. He couldn't translate the journal that Karliah had recovered from his tomb, but directed them to Markarth where they could find someone that could.

Catia made this journey alone. Karliah had healed her beyond expectations. There was as thin pink line that ran on a diagonal over her left breast and its matching counterpart on the back of her shoulder. She was glad she blacked out when it happened, she was sure the pain would have been immeasurable.

She was fairly certain that the remaining pains that shot through her chest weren't left over from the injury, but from Mercer himself and his betrayal.

She made quick work of Calcelmo and Markarth. She took the rubbing she had acquired back to Enthir who said he wasn't going to comment on the way it was obtained, but the implications were in his tone of voice.

He translated the journal surprisingly fast. Telling them that Gallus had suspected treachery on Mercer's part for quite some time before Mercer murdered him. He had violated something called the Twilight Sepulture.

Catia tried to imagine a twenty five years younger Mercer planning all this out, the furrow in his brow ever-present, the wry quirk set in his mouth.

They made the trip back to Riften in relative silence. Karliah was reveled to the Guild, the accusations against Mercer proved. The vault was _empty_. The Guild was angry and wanted revenge.

Catia was sent to his house to see if he had left any clues to where he went. She didn't want to go, but couldn't think of any good excuse to feed to Brynjolf as to why.

But he didn't have to see her face as she stood in the doorway to the bedroom, looking forlornly at the bed. The sheets were still rumpled from their last romp here and she was certain that she could still smell their scent hanging in the air.

She audibly laughed at the mercenaries that he had stationed in the house. _Please, _she thought. He obviously didn't comprehend her talent at _assassinating_; she was, after all, an assassin for a reason.

She slipped easily through his traps and made quick work of looting the things he had left in the subterranean study, finding a lovely blued sword that gave off a chill, she strapped it to her hip.

The plans that he left on the desk told them that he was headed to Irkingthad. It was as if he wanted Karliah to come after him.

"The Eyes of the Falmer." Brynjolf breathed as he read the note.

"What is that?" Catia frowned.

"Giant, flawlessly cut gems, the size of your head. If he gets his hands on those, he'll be set, we'll never hear from him again." He explained.

Catia felt her heart plummet into her stomach. She couldn't let that happen, Mercer had to know that she was still alive. She wasn't sure what she was hoping to achieve with giving him this bit of information. She supposed it was her last ditch effort in letting him know that he didn't have the upper hand on her. That she wasn't some foolish girl.

"We'll get him, Lass." Brynjolf placed a hand on her shoulder. "He won't get away with this."

She hoped Brynjolf was right.

**A/n: Oh no! Also, I apologize for the shortness of this one.  
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	8. She's Long Gone

**Chapter title is from The Black Keys.**

**Chapter 8**

_She was made to blow you away._

Nightingale.

It wasn't that Karliah had tricked them into it, per say. Just that she left out some of the details regarding the situation. It was apparently essential in defeating Mercer, and that seemed to ease her nerves a bit. She already knew that it was going to take all she had to kill him.

Catia briefly wondered what this meant for her afterlife. Who would claim her, Sithis or Nocturnal? She internally shrugged, shadows were shadows, she decided.

At least the armor was nice. It was snug like her old Brotherhood armor, but it moved easier. She was eternally thankful for the mask that hid every break in her face, that shadowed every emotion that was bound to be painted there.

They made the trip to the infernally snowy Irkingthad. Brynjolf and Karliah got on like old friends, Catia felt like a third wheel on a horse cart. They tried to include her in their conversations, but she refrained from prolong speech, afraid of anyone of the plethora of emotions running through her would interfere.

It seemed like every breath she breathed revolved around Mercer. He tormented her in her dreams and more often plagued every one of her waking thoughts. She went from immense sadness to nearly uncontrollable anger whenever she thought about him.

"Lass, I need to talk to you about something." Brynjolf's voice jolted her out of her hazy thoughts. "Karliah and I were talking about who the title of Guild Master should be passed onto."

"Well, you're going to take it, aren't you?" Catia asked, confused.

Brynjolf shifted uncomfortably, he scratched the back of his head, "That's just it though, I don't want it…"

"Oh, no….no…" Her eyes widened. "I'm not Mercer, I can't run the Guild…."

"Lass, you've brought in more gold in the past few months than the entire Guild has in the past few _years_." He explained. "You're respected among the lower ranks. You're perfect for the job."

She sputtered a few times before replying, "Oh, Brynjolf, this is all too much." She muttered, finally. "Why did Mercer have to go and be a bastard and ruin all the good things in my life?"

He comfortingly rubbed her back. After she had settled down a little bit, he suggested that they wait until they get back home to discuss the matter further.

Another thing that Catia hated, along with the cold, torture chambers, guilt, betrayal, and lying bastards, was Dwemer ruins. Every time one of those contraptions would pop up or out of the walls it felt like her heart was going to jump through her chest, given her already nervous disposition. Brynjolf kept shooting her concerned looks, like he expected her to drop to the floor at any moment.

She nearly did fall to the floor when they opened the last door that revealed Mercer. It felt like she was free falling, all the air pulled from her lungs as she waited, painfully, to crash to her death. She knew this moment was coming, but she was still incredibly unprepared for it.

The mask hid her face and for that she was glad, but it was only a matter of time.

"Ah, the Nightingales are restored. Very clever, Karliah. Which of the degenerates did you choose? Brynjolf, I can guess. What of the other? I can hardly wait…" Mercer's voice was harsh and darker than usual.

Karliah stepped forward, "You aren't going to get away with this, Mercer."

Mercer's laughed echoed off the cavernous walls. "Sure, sure, Karliah. No one left in that so called Guild has enough talent to best me. None of them could even come close. When will you learn that you can't get the upper hand on me?"

His harsh tone rattled Catia, she could feel the anger of his betrayal boiling in her blood. She strode forward, shouldering past Karliah and Brynjolf until she was at the point of their triangle. She snapped the mask off and pushed her hood back in a swift motion. The surprise on Mercer's face was veritable.

She wanted to give him some witty comeback. Something snarky and cold. She wanted him to know every single emotion she had felt since he stabbed her through the heart. But she couldn't utter one word. Her teeth were clenched and blotches of anger stained her cheeks as she seethed.

Mercer took in her appearance as varying emotions battled it out in his head. Half of him wanted to be glad that she wasn't dead, as she had hardly left his mind since the debacle at Snow Veil, the other half was rather concerned with the deadly look she was leveling him with.

He had to admit, the Nightingale armor suited her slender frame and wrapped around her lithe body like a second skin. Her unsettling grey-blue eyes pierced him, freezing him in place, he could see the delicate rise and fall of her chest and, per usual, her dark hair was falling, messily, from the braids she had it in.

"I guess you forgot just who you were dealing with." She muttered, it was quite, but he heard her.

He briefly wondered if her contracts were treated to this sight before their assassination.

Of all the things he had done in life, attempting to kill Catia Lione was probably his biggest mistake. She was right, he _had_ forgotten who he was dealing with, he thought he could get away with anything as long as he had the Key, but Catia didn't care for such trifling things. In any case, the Key was the only thing he had going for him and he might as well use it to his advantage while he could.

Catia rolled easily off of the platform that she had been standing on as it crumpled to the floor below as the entrance they had come through caved in. Suddenly, Brynjolf was attacking Karliah, cries of helplessness coming from the both of them. Mercer swore he saw Catia huff as she glanced over her shoulder, determining her companions as currently useless.

She swung her head back around as he was dropping the last Eye into his pack. With a snarled lip she leapt up the ramp that led to the top of the statue. Mercer glanced around, there was no way to go but up, and even that seemed to be fruitless. He turned, pulling his sword, and faced Catia, who was nearing him at an alarming pace.

"You don't want to do this, Lione." He reasoned, he attempted to keep his voice empty, "You don't want to kill me."

To his growing worry, she didn't allow any emotion into her voice. There was no sadness or anger, or anything, "No, but you left me with little choice, didn't you?" she feinted a swing of her sword, but instead he found a sharp pain shooting though his arm as a throwing knife sank into the muscle. He grunted, a left handed, spot on, throw. He really had underestimated her.

She gave him a feral grin. The room started to rumble and water began pouring in from the walls.

"This place will be flooded in a matter of minutes, Catia." He warned, blocking a charge and retaliating with his own attack.

Catia shrugged as best she could while sparring, "I don't really care if we all die here, Mercer." In her wild tone, he was sure he could hear a bit of sadness, but mostly he heard the truth in her words.

She swung again, catching his hand with her blade and knocking his sword from it. Staggering, his foot slipped and he fell, crashing to the platform a few feet below where they had been fighting.

Catia leapt, gracefully, from the ledge and was on him in a matter of minutes. Straddling him, she wrenched the Key from his hand and shouted to Brynjolf and Karliah to find an exit. Snatching his pack she swung it over her shoulder, she then pulled a grey bottle from one of her pockets and poured the contents onto the iron dagger that she had pulled from Mercer's belt. She unceremoniously stabbed him in the shoulder with it.

It wasn't the death blow that Mercer had been expecting, instead, he froze, completely unable to move. "Paralytic Poison." Catia mumbled. "I wanted to kill you, Mercer, I really and truly did. I wanted you to feel every bit of pain that I've felt since you left me to die in Snow Veil Sanctum, but I realize that you can't feel that if you're dead. I want to kill you, but I can't, I just…can't." Emotion colored her voice at the end of her little speech.

She continued in her quiet voice, the water was rising quickly and her companions were having no luck with an exit. "Just think of all the mischief we could have caused, the riches we could have found, together. You should have known that I would have gone with you. I would have picked you every time." To her displeasure, her voice did break on the last sentence.

She dumped the contents of another bottle down his throat and held his mouth until he swallowed it. She leaned forward, her nose nearly brushing his. "If you don't live through this, I can't say I didn't try." She got up off of him, dropping the empty vial of water breathing potion next to him as she did.

**a/n: Only two more chapters to go! But I'm fairly certain that there will be a sequel…I'm not sure what it's going to entail…but I just really love writing Catia.**


	9. Cut

**Cut by Plumb….Sorry for the delay I've had a rough couple of days and didn't have time to edit.**

**Chapter 9 Cut**

_With crippled anger_

_And tears that still drip sore_

_There was no way Mercer could have survived that._ She thought as they finally emerged from the cave, the bright daylight nearly blinding her. _I should have done more._

Her mind battled it out. Of course she shouldn't have done more, she should have done less. She should have ran him through with his own sword and stood, laughing, over his bleeding form. She was an _assassin,_ for the love of Sithis, killing wasn't a problem for her.

She didn't want Mercer dead, though. She wanted things to go back to the way they were before. When she would go out on jobs and come back and they would have amazing sex, even if she knew it had developed into more than that. Of course, that was completely impossible, even if he did make it out of that gods-forsaken pit of a Dwemer ruin.

Her stomach dropped as she thought of him struggling to find a way out of the cavern. The water breathing potion wearing off, his wounds getting the better of him, a plethora of terrible images of a dying Mercer filled her thoughts.

Her first instinct was to dart back in the cave and find a way to pull him out. Instead she collapsed into a sobbing, heaving, mess. It felt like her whole body broke, tears streaming down her face. It seemed impossible to pull in a breath of air.

Karliah and Brynjolf were on her in a moment. Karliah wrapped her arms around her, Brynjolf kneeling next to her, rubbing comforting circles on her back, both of them talking to her in soothing voices.

"It's over now…"

"He can't hurt you now…"

"He's not coming back…."

More tears came at these words. She buried her face in her hands, unable to control the awful, heart wrenching sounds that were coming from her. She could have sworn that her very heart was being ripped from her ribcage.

She half expected Mercer to emerge from the cave, what bothered her more was the fact that she _wanted_ him to. Of course, this internal battle was what turned her into this blubbering mess. It was embarrassing, all this emotion, Nazir would have laughed at her.

Finally, the sobbing stopped. She drew in a shaky breath and let Brynjolf pull her to her feet. Tears were still falling at irregular intervals, but at least she wasn't lying on the ground, curled into a trembling mess of emotion.

They walked away from the cave, no words passing between them. It seemed to be a mutual moment of reflection. All of them weighing their own personal struggles with what just happened, what Mercer had done to each of them, individually.

"There's still the matter of returning the Skeleton Key to the Twilight Sepulture." Karliah broke the silence, finally.

Catia sighed, knowing what was coming. Karliah grasped her arm, halting their progress.

"I can't….I can't face Nocturnal right now. Not after…failing..to protect the Key." Her lower lip trembled slightly.

She turned to find out what Brynjolf's excuse was.

"The Guild needs looking after in your absence." He told her.

"You speak as if I've already agreed to become Guild Master." It was the first actual words Catia had spoken since they had fled the flooding ruin. Her voice was raspy and low.

Brynjolf merely gave her a sad smile and grasped her shoulder briefly. "We should make camp and rest for a while. Continue our journey tomorrow." He suggested.

It was a suggestion that Catia was immediately in favor of. Even Karliah seemed to relish the thought of a bit of rest. They put up the camp quickly in a small cove that offered a small bit of protection.

Catia wasn't hungry when Karliah brought back some game to cook. Instead of eating, she pulled her bedroll as close to the fire as she could and curled up under the furs, watching the flames lick the night sky.

It was a cold night. Every night was a cold night. For weeks after returning the Skeleton Key, eating and sleeping wasn't a priority for her. She sunk herself into the Guild, finally accepting the offer of Guild Master, even if she couldn't see herself in the position that Mercer had once held. Standing behind that desk, looking imposing and planning jobs, if it hadn't been for Brynjolf guiding her those first few weeks, the Guild would have ran into the ground in no time.

Now, though, gold was running freely through the vault. New members were being recruited and they were expanding out of the Cistern and into other parts of the Ratways, which was quickly becoming an underground city with its own shops, taverns, and even a few personal residents.

Thoughts and memories of Mercer never really faded though. She laughed a bit more now, talked with the other Guild members a bit more. But every time she felt like she was getting better at being without him, his face would pop into her head, a phrase would echo through her ears in his dark voice. Every injury that she got out in the field would remind her that he wasn't there to patch her up and take her mind off things.

She figured that he hadn't made it out of Irkingthad alive. Of course, leave it to Mercer to thwart all her ill-planned schemes. She had spent the majority of her energy after leaving the ruin to watching the shadows, expecting his dark eyes to be peering out at her, letting her know that he was alive. She was constantly checking over her shoulder to see if she was being tailed. She always inspected every corner of Proudspire Manor when she visited Solitude and drilled Lydia about any visitors when she was in Whiterun.

She even went as far as to ask Nazir if he had heard anything on the whereabouts of the Guild's previous Guild Master.

"Only that he was dead. Can't make many appearances if he's buried under some Dwemer ruin, can he?"

"How'd you know where he died?" She asked, puzzled.

He laughed, "That Delvin Mallory that Astrid was acquainted with. Turns out that he's quite a useful contact for us. Helps us with acquiring certain…supplies…and points potential clients in our direction."

"Oh." Of course. Leave

"He also talks about that new Guild Master they've got. Puny, Imperial girl, about so high," He lifted his hand to about where she stood next to him. "Funny blue eyes. Mysterious past."

"I don't know what you're hinting at, Nazir." She said in her most emotionless voice, ignoring the jab at her small stature.

"Of course you don't." He chuckled, "You know, you never were a good liar, kid."

She expected, if everything else had failed, that if he were still alive, he'd make an appearance after she, very publically, moved into Riftweald Manor. The Jarl wasn't happy, she didn't want someone to have permanent residency in the city unless she had specifically invited them to. But what could they do while Catia was standing in front of them waving the deed to the house, which had been signed over to her by Maven Black-Briar, who had reclaimed possession of the house after Mercer's death.

But every night she lurked around the house, expecting him to have crept in, hiding in the shadows. Every bump or creak in the night held the possibility of Mercer appearing in front of her.

He never came.

Eventually, she quit looking for him as often. She quit waiting for him. Her last, longing, hope was that he was still alive, just that he didn't want to hurt her anymore, or slightly less comforting, he just didn't care.

Nearly three months had passed since Irkingthad when Brynjolf found her hunched over the desk one particularly quiet morning in the Cistern.

"Did you sleep at all, Lass?" He asked, exasperated to find her in very nearly the same place he had left her the evening before.

She waved him off, "Yeah, sure. I'm leaving for Solitude in the next couple of hours." She told him, distractedly flipping though the ledger, "If you have any particular jobs you wanted done while I'm there."

"I think Delvin has a couple he wanted picked up. Do you want to take one of the recruits with you? Do a bit of training?"

"I have….other business...to attend to while I'm there." She gave him a pointed look. It hadn't been too long after their return from Irkingthad that her affiliation with the Brotherhood was discovered. At that particular juncture, considering the pain she still felt for Mercer, she hadn't really cared. Fortunately, given the circumstances, the Guild had deemed her trustworthy, she was a Nightingale, after all, and the one who set the Guild back on its feet.

Brynjolf nodded. "I see….Good luck?" He said, unsure if that was the correct sentiment.

Catia laughed, drawing a smile onto Brynjolf's face, it was a sound they didn't hear often from her. "As if I need luck, my dear friend. With skills like these…"

She spent two days skulking around Solitude, sizing up her target and finding the perfect spot to carry out the assassination. The citizens of the city never questioned their Thane's strange habits, her ability to turn up in the strangest places within the walls of the city.

In fact, they seemed to find it quite endearing. She was always so jovial and helpful to the people of the hold, that her slightly meticulous wanderings of the city at all hours of the day and night was viewed as a charming, if eccentric, quirk.

Her target had a habit of leaving the Winking Skeever during the wee hours of the night, which was perfect for an assassination. Hiding in the shadows of one of the high walkways that crisscrossed over the streets, she took aim. One shot, an arrow through the neck, was all it took as he let out a soft gurgle and collapsed onto the paved stones. No one would even notice his death until morning.

She straitened up, a bit of a satisfied smile playing around her lips, and Nazir said this one would be difficult. She put her bow back in its place on her back.

"Nice shot."

She froze. She had been caught. That was impossible though, she had scouted the area thoroughly before she had picked this spot. Her legs ached, wanting to spring into action and take her sprinting to safety.

But….that voice…it stirred something buried in her chest. She whipped around, eyes wide.

"What do I get for not informing the guards of your little….transgression?"

He stood no more than five paces in front of her. Arms crossed, snarky smile dancing around his mouth. There was a bit of stubble gracing his cheeks and chin and his hair was longer than it needed to be. But there was no doubt in her mind of who it was, even shrouded in shadows as he currently was.

Mercer Frey.

**a/n: Oh….Mercer There's only one more chapter left in this story, which is exciting, because it's the first one I've finished in a long time!**

**Also, there are two things I'm working on: First, I was thinking of doing a one shot of some stuff from Mercer's point of view…like Windhelm and Snow Veil and a bit of Irkingthad…and then second, I really love writing Catia, so I was thinking about doing a sequel, I have a couple of ideas about what sort of trouble she could get into, what do you think? Anything particular that you'd like to see?**


	10. Strange Desire

**Title and lyrics from the Black Keys….again….weren't they just a couple of chapters ago? (sorry, I love them.)**

**Chapter 10 Strange Desire**

_I don't want to go to hell_

_But if I do, it'll be because of you._

"You heartless bastard!" She screeched at him as he shut the door.

She had stood, staring at him, for what felt like a lifetime. At first he gave her a moment to collect her thoughts, but soon it became apparent that she was doing no such thing. He approached her slowly, giving her time to spring into action, but she never did.

He reached for her hand and as soon as their fingers touched, she snapped, punching him in the shoulder and storming away.

"Catia, wait…" He followed her as she stomped through the streets. Fortunately, she was trained to move quietly, so her tirade through the town was fairly discreet. She flung the door to Proudspire Manor open and stormed in, dumping her bow and other weapons in a heap on the floor. At least she wasn't going to try and kill him, he thought, but then he wondered if she even really needed weapons to do that.

She didn't slam the door in his face so he followed her in and closed the door himself.

"I hate you." She said, much more quietly, nearly a whisper. Her hands were trembling, all the emotions that she had tried so hard to stamp out over the past couple of months were threatening to come rushing back to her.

He approached her cautiously, reaching out to her. He went to pull her to him, but she struggled in his grasp, pounding her fists against his chest. They weren't hard hits, of course, she could have hit him with pillows and inflected more damage. She called him horrible names and told him all the terrible things that she wished would have happened to him.

"I hate you, Mercer Frey! Hate. You. Do you even know what you've done to me? Can you comprehend the amount of pain you've put me through? All the emotions I've had to suffer with?" She shouted at him, done with pelting him with her fist, she pushed away from him and resorted to pacing around the room. "I don't do well with emotions! I'm an assassin for a reason!"

"Catia, I know, I'm…" He started, but she cut him off.

"No, you don't know. You don't." Her voice was starting to crack and Mercer could sense the breakdown on the horizon.

She stopped her pacing and stood in front of him. She was wearing her Brotherhood armor instead of her Guild armor, which was usually fine with him, he loved the way it clung to her body and accentuated her figure. At this moment, however, he was more enraptured with her big grey-blue eyes, which were looking at him with such an intense sadness that he could feel his heart being pulled at. Her lower lip was trembling and her hair was falling in a tangled mess around her shoulders.

He briefly wondered if she ever even considered brushing her hair, but then the tears started falling. That half-crazed, lethal woman at Irkingthad was replaced with this broken one, and he knew it was his entire fault.

He couldn't stand the distance between them anymore; he couldn't take looking at that sad face any longer. He quickly crossed over to her and gathered her up in his arms. This time she didn't struggle against him, but collapsed into him, burying her face in his chest, gripping the straps of his armor in her fist.

He rubbed her back and stroked her hair, whispering in her ear in a comforting voice. He told her how sorry he was, how genuinely sorry he was. He knew that there wasn't anything that he could say that would take back what he did, he hadn't realized at the time how much it would affect him to be without her.

Of course, he had known how much she meant to him, it made him nervous that he had thought about her so much, and worried about her while she was gone on jobs. She was infuriatingly good at being a permanent fixture in his mind.

And he had missed her. Gods, he had missed her. He had a plan, it had been in the works for longer than he cared to remember. Then _she_ showed up, throwing a kink in all his well laid plans. But the moment he had driven the sword through her motionless body, he knew that he had made a mistake, there would be no forgetting about her.

The surprise, and utter relief he felt when she showed up at Irkingthad with Brynjolf and Karliah was nearly breathtaking. Even with the wild, vicious, look that she had given him as she had advanced on him, he'd rather her be alive and hating him fiercely than dead at his hands.

He knew she would have to kill him. It was inevitable, really, after all he had done to her. But that was another way that he had underestimated her. Even after what he'd done and even though death was her profession, she still held enough compassion to at least give him a chance to live, which was more than he had allotted her.

He had wanted her to believe that he was dead, that he hadn't made it out of the ruins. He had planned on never contacting her again, but he had to make sure that she was doing alright. So he traveled to Riften and watched over her from the shadows. It was during these times that he really realized just how lethal she was. She alternated between the Guild and the Brotherhood, pulling jobs for both of them, he watched her pick pockets, locks, and lives without a second thought, without the marks even realizing what had hit them.

There were a few moments where he was sure she knew that he was around. Mostly at night, she would mumble his name in her sleep. She always wore a professional mask for her fellow Guild and Brotherhood members.

The many times he found himself nearly ready to reveal himself, he had stopped, realizing that the aftermath would be more than hard on her. But this night, watching her line up her mark from the shadows, the muscles contracting delicately in her body as she pulled the bowstring, her soft intake of breath just before releasing the shot. She was utterly beautiful.

The words had slipped from his mouth and her body had instantly tensed at the sound of his voice. When she had turned to face him, he could see the millions of thoughts and feelings flitting over her face.

And now, as she cried against him, completely stripped of her calm exterior, he realized that he could never leave her, not truly. Sure, she could order him away, and he might go for a while, but never far, always close enough to protect her in any way that he could. He had planned to go to Cyrodiil for a while, but he knew that he couldn't, he couldn't go anywhere where Catia wasn't.

He marveled at the change in his attitude. The way this woman had changed him.

She eventually cried herself out, for the most part, there were still a few tears falling erratically down her cheeks.

"Come on, you must be exhausted." He scooped her up in his arms. He expected a struggle, but she seemed to have struggled herself out.

He carried her up the stairs and to the bedroom, laying her gently down on the bed. She even let him gently remove her armor. He stripped her down to her undergarments, knowing that this was her favorite sleeping attire.

He pulled the blankets up a bit and leaned down, close to her face, and kissed her on the cheek. It was a delicate and sad kiss.

"Catia, I…" He couldn't find the words as he cupped her cheek and studied her face, memorizing every detail. "I…"

To his surprise, she reached up and touched his face, her eyes wide and glassy from crying. "Mercer…please…please don't leave again." She rubbed her thumb over his cheek bone, "I just don't think I could handle it." She whispered.

He wasn't expecting this. To be honest, he expected her to tell him to leave and that she never wanted to see him again. He was ready to accept that.

This surprised him, though, and he merely stood over her for a moment, confusion written on his face. She gave his arm a pleading tug. "Please?"

It didn't take him long to pull his own armor off and climb into bed next to her. For a moment they laid side by side, not touching or moving. Then he rolled over and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight. He curled around her as she relaxed into his hold.

"All you ever have to do is say the word, and I'll disappear from your life forever." He told her in a whisper, kissing her forehead.

He felt her shake her head, she murmured, "No, never do that."

**a/n Oh the feelings! I really love writing emotions. Well, that's the end! First story I've finished in a loooong time. Tell me what you think? I'd love to hear :) **

**I've just started the sequel…literally, just today. Now that we know for sure that Mercer is going to be around (was there ever any doubt that he wouldn't?), what kind of troubles do you think they'll get into? /winkwink.**

Also, thank you to my amazing handful of reviewers ;) Particularly the ones who reviewed multiple times and especially Heiwako, who reviewed _nearly_ every chapter, which always brightened my day.


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